


Milkvetch

by bunnymarket



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, F/M, Mutual Pining, The Doctor is in love and stupid, Time Jumping, oblivious OC, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymarket/pseuds/bunnymarket
Summary: In history, milkvetch flowers were thought to mean, “your presence softens my pain”.Elise Winters wasn't spectacular, she wasn't special. Until one day she was. Fire accompanies her everywhere she goes, but all she wants to do is make the flames signify something good. Leading a life with the Doctor, that might be more difficult than she thinks.(Timejumper!OC)
Relationships: 10th Doctor/Original Female Character, 11th Doctor/Original Female Character, 12th Doctor/Original Female Character, 13th Doctor/Original Female Character, 9th doctor/original female character, The Doctor/Original Female Character
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	1. First Meetings

Elise was having, quite possibly, one of the worst days of her life. She considered that to be quite ironic, really, being as it was the celebration marking the oh so glorious day of her birth. Not that it mattered much to anyone.

Still, she wasn't going to let that ruin the mood. There wasn't a rule book laying around that said she had to have other people around to celebrate. So she was spending the night alone.

Well deserved, she thought, spending her very last paycheck on liquor that she certainly wasn't old enough to buy. The man who worked the counter was always too busy eyeing her chest to bother asking for an ID.

She pretended not to notice every time, and now she wouldn't have to face him again. There wouldn't be any more money to buy the booze with, as it was.

Her dad would hardly notice if she didn't return home, her boss was clear in letting her know how happy he was to fire her; she had all the time in the world to drown her sorrows.

What better way to celebrate than getting wasted in the woods by her house and float outside of her body for a few hours? It certainly amounted to the greatness she had achieved in her 20 years of life, she thought bitterly.

Some time later, Elise was sprawled out in the grass with her arms stretched out, staring longingly at the inky sky above her. Her thoughts were blurring together, her eyes barely staying open and she grasped the air tightly.

In her drunken state of mind, she was determined to bring the stars closer to her. To get herself closer to the stars. She wanted to see how brightly they shone.

She struggled to stay awake, blinking back tears as the cool wind whipped her face and froze her fingertips. Perhaps in a dream, she could finally see the stars up close, in all their glory.

Just as she allowed her eyelids to shut, she felt a weight against her wrist. Handcuffs? Rope? Whatever it was, she didn't know, but she doubted it was anything good.

She tried to fight back, but the alcohol in her system inhibited her response time. As she sluggishly clawed and kicked at the assailant, she heard whatever bind was being used on her click into place.

She blinked away the tears and stared down at her wrist, noticing a faint golden light swirling around the contraption placed on her. Curiously, and a bit wearily, she pressed one of the buttons on the device.

Almost immediately, the burning began. As if she had stuck her arm into an open flame, heat licked at her skin and coursed throughout her body. The sensation made her curl into herself and caused her to cry out in agony. The heat kept spreading, getting impossibly hotter, enveloping her in pain.

Her vision was going black. She could hardly hear over her own heartbeat, but she was sure someone was screaming. Then she blacked out.

When she finally woke up, all the pain had subsided. She thought at first it had been a dream, but she felt no pain at all. Not even a hangover. Surely, passing out drunk in a field would leave you with some aches and pains.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking away spots and trying to take in her environment. She certainly wasn't in a field anymore.

Panicking, she shot up from where she was laying and looked around the room. Everything looked sterile and important; the equipment all blindingly white and half of it things she had never seen.

And she felt it. The weight on her wrist. When she looked down, that contraption was still there. Quite honestly, Elise had no idea what it was. The outer material looked to be leather of some kind, with a small device encased. There was a screen, but no readings showed up. Whatever the device had been before, it looked burnt out now.

But then there was the case of what it had done to her while she was knocked out. And who had put it on her to begin with. And where she was. Frankly, she had a lot to figure out.

She was about to jump down from the cot she had been placed on, when a man burst into the room, already speaking a mile a minute.

"Oh, Lissy, you really had me worried! I always say, what do I say? I say, "don't get yourself into trouble". And what do you do? Get yourself into trouble. Really, I thought Amy was going to kill me. Blamed it on me, of course. Not to mention…" he trailed off, his expression growing concerned as he made eye contact with the girl now backing herself into a corner. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Who are you? What have you done to me?" Elise demanded, trying not to let the fear she felt leak through into her voice.

The man took a step forward and she immediately scrambled back, pressing herself against the wall. He held his hands out in surrender, trying to appear as unharmful as possible.

"Elise, I… I know it's early, but surely you know who I am? Surely it's not…" he trailed off, his voice breaking as his hands dropped uselessly at his sides. His face was pale, his eyes glazed over with tears that would never fall.

"Yeah, I know who you are! You're the man who kidnapped me, and I want to know why! And what's with the accent? No use in hiding your identity if you're going to show me your face."

The man sighed, clearly dejected by Elise's accusations, although she had no idea why. If he was going to kidnap her, surely he couldn't expect her to sit back and take it. Why did he look like he was the victim?

When he didn't respond, Elise demanded more answers.

"What's this thing on me? Have you drugged me? Oh, you want to get handsy, don't you! What, too good for doing it in the woods? Had to come to a hospital for the action?" She stopped suddenly, eyes darting between the stranger and the room she was occupying.

Her eyes widened, and she tried to get even further away from the man, even though she was already on the other side of the room. She couldn't help the terror lacing her words when she spoke again.

"Are you going to harvest my organs? I need those. No, wait, are you going to dissect me? That's it, isn't it? You abducted me for… for dissection and probing!"

"If I was going to dissect you, I would've done it already! Use your head, Elise. I'm not here to hurt you," the man tried to reason, risking walking further into the room, closer to her. "Elise, I know you don't know me right now. But I need you to trust me. I would never, ever hurt you. Please believe that."

She narrowed her eyes at the man, finally taking in all his features as she digested his words. He had floppy brown hair that barely covered his forehead, a baby face with the slightest pouty lips, and bright eyes that she couldn't bear to look into for too long. There was something in them, something that made her feel guilty.

Not one to be stupid, she didn't chance getting closer to the strange man. After all, she had clearly been taken somehow. But his words made sense. She had been passed out, at his disposal, and as far as she could tell he had fixed her.

She cleared her throat, straightening her back to appear taller although she still reckoned she would barely come up to his shoulders. She had to appear threatening somehow. Or, at the very least, unintimidated.

"Okay. Suppose you're telling the truth. Why kidnap me for nothing?"

His shoulders sagged, obviously relieved that she was willing to believe him, but he still looked bothered.

"I didn't kidnap you. If you come with me, I can explain what happened. I can show you."

The man held out his hand, an offer she could take or refuse as she wished, and chanced another step closer to her. This time, rather than scurrying back like a wounded animal, she took a small step forward.

Elise had common sense. She knew that some people were bad and that the world could be cruel. But she looked into those eyes of his, she recalled the sincerity in his voice, and she took a chance. Every fiber of her being was telling her to believe him, to trust him.

Hesitantly, she reached out, securing her hand in his much larger one. He squeezed it reassuringly, a small smile gracing his features.

He led her out of the infirmary style room and through a series of corridors, glancing back at her every so often as if making sure she was still there. Finally, they entered a room which made Elise gasp in awe, her eyes widening as she took in the beauty.

"This is our ship. Our home. The TARDIS; stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space," the man explained as he led her down the stairs, further into the center of the room.

The entire area was basked in a warm orange glow, reflecting softly off the glass floor she stood on. When she looked down, she saw the inner workings of the ship, as well as a small swing, but she hardly gave it a second thought. It seemed as if the entire ship was calling to her, enveloping her in the same warmth that covered the room.

She let go of the man's hand, walking to the desktop as if in a trance. Absently, she reached out and rubbed the console gently, a smile forming on her lips for the first time since she woke. To her surprise, she heard a pleasant hum in the back of her mind; if she didn't know any better, she would say the ship was welcoming her.

"She's beautiful," Elise breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. While her eyes scanned the many devices on the desktop, she missed the fond look the man gave her.

"How did you know to call her a she?"

"You always call ships a she. Who are you?" She asked, rounding on the man with her eyes narrowed.

The man smiled, reaching up and adjusting his bow tie, before clearing his throat. A dramatic man, Elise thought, but certainly not a threat to her.

He paused, adding to the dramatic effect he was aiming for, before spreading his arms out wide. "I'm the Doctor."

Elise took a step back, furrowing her eyebrows as she digested the man's-the Doctor's-words. Then, before she could stop herself, giggles erupted from the back of her throat. "Are we roleplaying? Who am I in this scenario, your nurse? Or perhaps your secretary?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, his face flushing violently at Elise's words. He attempted to stumble out a response, his eyes darting anywhere but her, but he seemed at a loss. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"My name is the Doctor!" he exclaimed, his voice a pitch higher than it was before. If Elise looked closely, and she was, she would find that the tips of his ears were still bright red.

It was endearing, almost, the way this grown man was pouting in front of her. Sweet, the way she could make him blush furiously at the smallest suggestion of something sinful. She found that he looked rather cute when she was making him nervous.

She shook those thoughts away, determined to stay focused on the situation at hand. He was still a stranger, she was still in a strange place, and he had yet to show her any evidence that refuted her belief that she had been kidnapped.

"Your name is the Doctor?" He nodded. "And you're sure you aren't going to dissect me?"

In lieu of a response, the Doctor grabbed her by the wrist and led her to the doors of the ship. Before she could ask what he was doing, he had opened the door, revealing to her the expanse of space, right before her eyes.

She was starstruck, literally, as she took in the shimmering stars in front of her, making up constellations she couldn't name if she tried. Wisps of green and blue swirled together in the distance, surrounding some planet or moon or other that she also found to be nameless.

She blinked once, twice, and the image in front of her remained the same. She pinched her arm, and it stung, but it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing.

"We're in space," she said dumbly, not taking her eyes off the sight right outside of those doors.

"Did I forget to mention that this is a spaceship?" The Doctor asked, sounding every bit as smug as he had the right to be, and if Elise wasn't frozen she would've glared at him for his tone.

Instead, she murmured, "Must have," offhandedly, absentmindedly taking a step closer to the edge of the ship. Just as the Doctor moved to pull her back, a new voice sounded throughout the room.

"Oh, Elise! I was so worried about you," the Scottish tilt exclaimed, running forwards and wrapping Elise in her arms tightly.

"Uh, Amy-" the Doctor started, but Elise cut him off.

"We're in space," she told the Scottish woman, hardly reacting to being bear-hugged by yet another stranger.

The woman, Amy, let go of Elise and took a step back, regarding the smaller woman with confusion. "Why wouldn't we be?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "This is her first time. For everything," he explained slowly, putting extra emphasis on the last word and communicating something silently to Amy that went over Elise's head.

Amy nodded in understanding, smiling tightly at Elise before wandering off elsewhere in the ship, leaving the Doctor and Elise alone once more.

Gently, the Doctor led her back to the console and sat her down in the jumpseat, rubbing her shoulder soothingly as she digested the revelation that the TARDIS was much more than she first thought.

Finally, she spoke. "Are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Oddly enough, the Doctor smiled at her words, giving her shoulder a squeeze before he started explaining the most bizarre thing Elise had ever heard in her life.

"Like I said before, the TARDIS is our home. She can travel through time and space, practically anywhere and anywhen. And so can you. You, my sweet Elise, jump throughout random points in my timestream. That pain, the burning you felt, that was you jumping. It won't hurt as much next time, but it's still going to burn.

I know you're going to ask, and no, I don't know why it happens. I don't know how to stop it. It's been happening for a long time now, and from what you've told me, it continues into my future as well. I know that's a lot to take in. Do you have any questions?"

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence. Elise had no idea what to make of his words. Obviously, they were in space, but how was she to believe everything else? Things like this didn't just happen, and especially not to her. A man with a time machine must lead a rather important life, she thought, and she was no one. Why was she entangled in his timeline?

Still, there was no reason to tell such an outrageous lie. Elise knew lies well; the more details you add, the less mundane you make it, the less likely it is to be true. Someone wouldn't just make up something like this. And she would find out soon enough, she figured.

So she decided to accept it. Maybe it was a dumb idea, maybe it would be the death of her. But at the off chance that she would get to travel through time and space? She would bargain for it.

The Doctor was leaned down close to her face, searching her eyes incessantly for an answer. However, just as she was about to respond, he jumped back excitedly.

"Oh! If this is the first time we've met, that means it's your birthday! Works out perfectly for me, as it is, because I was going to take Amy to the most brilliant place. You're going to love it," the Doctor remarked, speaking quicker than seemed possible, which Elise noted seemed to be normal for him.

"How do you know when my birthday is?" Elise asked softly, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her emotions. Truth be told, she was quite touched that the Doctor remembered a date so mundane. In the last nine years, no one had bothered to celebrate or even remember her birthday except for her.

"Because you told me," he replied simply, tapping her gently on the tip of the nose. "Well, to be honest, we celebrate your birthday quite a lot; time isn't really linear on the TARDIS. But today is your actual birthday, so we have to make this one special!"

Elise couldn't decide if she adored or abhorred all of the attention she was receiving from the Doctor, but she certainly wasn't used to it. At home, no one spared her a second glance. This was a nice change, sure, but she felt exposed every time their eyes met.

So, like a responsible adult, Elise decided to ignore her feelings and focus on something else entirely. She wondered what a man who could travel through space and time would classify as 'special'.

As the trio made their way through the Musee d'Orsay, the Doctor kept Elise's hand firmly in his own. She didn't mind; his hands were as soft as they looked, and he tended to walk away without saying anything, so it kept them together.

While she admired the work of Monet, which the Doctor led them to almost immediately, the crowd seemed to disappear. But she swore she could feel a pair of grey eyes watching her every move.

"Do you like it?" The Doctor whispered, his warm breath hitting her ear, startling her out of her trance.

"It's beautiful," she replied earnestly, ignoring the chills arising on her arms.

When they entered the Van Gogh section, Amy took it in with the biggest smile Elise had ever seen.

"Thanks for bringing me," she whispered to the pair, hitting the Doctor playfully with her scarf.

"You're welcome."

"You're being so nice to me. Why are you being so nice to me?"

The Doctor scoffed, nodding his head towards Elise like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm always nice to you. Plus, it's Elise's birthday, you know. Not everything is about Amelia Pond."

Amy rolled her eyes, but the smile never fell from her lips. Elise wondered if she would ever become as close with the couple as they obviously were with each other, and felt a pang of longing in her chest.

"You were going to take me here before Elise showed up. And even without her, the places we went; Arcadia, the Trojan Gardens. How did you even know I liked Van Gogh? I think it's suspicious."

For some reason, the Doctor gripped Elise's hand tighter. "It's not suspicious. There's nothing to be suspicious about," he insisted, the tone in his voice convincing Elise that there was certainly something to be suspicious about.

Apparently, Amy thought the same thing. "I was joking. Why aren't you?"

The Doctor didn't reply, instead scanning the room of its occupants like they were the most interesting thing in the world. When a little boy called his name, his head snapped towards the direction of the voice, but it was merely a false alarm.

Elise wondered if he was always strung this high; ready at a moment's call for the pen to drop and someone, anywhere, to be shouting his name. What kind of life did the Doctor live? She found she was desperately curious to find out.

Lost in her train of thought, she tripped over her feet when she was yanked by the Doctor, who was being pulled by Amy, towards one of Van Gogh's paintings.

Amy was saying something, but Elise tuned out her voice. All she was focused on was the beautiful colors in front of her, swirling together in a beautiful symphony that captured her heart entirely.

Van Gogh had never been her favorite artist, but there was certainly still much to say about his talent; she longed to see the world through his eyes. As she leaned closer to the painting, soaking in every detail, she noticed a strange face in one of the windows of the church.

"Has that always been there?" Elise asked quietly, her eyes not straying from the dark figure in the frame.

The Doctor followed her extended finger, curiously studying the figure with a dark look in his normally bright eyes. "Oh, my brilliant Elise," he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of her head. She flushed at the action.

"What is it?" Amy asked, curiosity soaking her words, as she leaned forward to inspect the painting as the pair were currently doing.

"A face. A particularly not good one, if my gut is right. And it usually is."

Judging by the exasperated expression on Amy's face, Elise found it safe to conclude that this vanity wasn't something the Doctor just recently acquired.

The aforementioned man wandered off further into the museum, Amy trailing behind him easily, but Elise continued to study the figure in the painting. It didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before, and a small part of her was longing to find out what it was.

Not that she ever would, she thought glumly, seeing as Van Gogh lived centuries before she was born. But she could speculate. She let her mind wander from practical to impossible ideas, each scenario growing in grandeur, before the Doctor's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"We need to talk to Vincent Van Gogh," he said sternly, grabbing Elise's hand and pulling her along before she had time to process his words fully.

It took the entire walk back to the TARDIS for Elise to realize that what the Doctor was suggesting was absurd. Not that she was surprised by his absurdity, but that didn't make it any less of a fact.

Still, she didn't have time to mention this, because as soon as the beautiful ship was in her sight again, her mind was spinning for other reasons. Of course, she had already realized that the ship was bigger on the inside when she first stepped out, but it was still difficult to wrap her mind around.

When the Doctor explained that it was another dimension entirely, she began picturing a larger box folded up to fit inside of a smaller box. He appraised her for her comparison, but assured her that it was nothing like that at all. Not that she was surprised; science had never been a strength of hers.

As she was hauled inside of the TARDIS, fumbling to catch her grounding, she wondered if the Doctor would ever have the patience to teach her more about the ship's intricacies. Not now, of course, because there were bigger things happening.

"Surely we're not just going to fly to the 1800s and waltz up to Van Gogh?" Elise exclaimed, leaning back against the railing as the Doctor twisted and waltzed around the console excitedly.

"That's precisely what we're going to do!" he replied, completely unbothered, before yanking down a particularly large lever.

The room was filled with the same wheezing and groaning Elise heard upon their landing, and despite her best efforts, she found herself excited for what was to come. The Doctor was, without a doubt, completely mad, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

The TARDIS took off with a lurch, sending the unprepared woman straight into the Doctor's arms. He caught her with ease, hands wrapping around her waist as he grinned down at her with a glimmer in his eyes.

She flushed at the proximity of their bodies, but stayed still for fear of falling if she let go. She trained her eyes on his nose, still unable to look into his eyes for too long, and began her line of questioning.

"So is this what you do? Find trouble and run headfirst into it?"

"Basically," Amy replied from across the room, amusement clear in her voice. "Trouble is what the Doctor is good at."

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but the wheezing filled the room once more, signifying their arrival. This was good for Elise, because it left her little to no time to ponder what Amy's words meant for her future.


	2. Vincent and the Doctor

The Doctor and Amy exited the TARDIS with no hesitation, the Doctor pulling Elise along as if it were second nature to him. When the cool night air hit her face, she was pleasantly surprised. Of course, she knew the TARDIS was a time machine, the Doctor had told her as much, but experiencing it firsthand was something different entirely.

It was like the air around her was lighter, fresher, as she breathed it in. It certainly wasn’t anything like the dense, muggy air in Seattle, but she knew it wasn’t just because of the difference in location. 

She felt it, certainly and truly in her chest, that they were in the past. Her heart lurched at the thought, and excitement coursed through her veins. 

“So here’s the plan--” the Doctor started, walking through the alleyway with a sense of importance and confidence that he always seemed to exude.

“You have a plan?” Elise asked, partially teasing the man but also seriously wondering when he had time to come up with a plan in the excitement of the past few minutes. 

He shot her a playful glare, and she found herself grinning without her body’s permission, not entirely sure what kind of spell this strange man had over her already. But she figured, if she was going to stick around as long as he said she was, maybe it was good that her chest felt so light around him. 

She found it odd, really, how easily she fell into place beside the Doctor. He took her hand without a care in the world, and she let him just as carelessly. She told herself it was because he seemed confident, and she wanted to be near him when things inevitably went wrong, but there was something else.

It was a small feeling, itching the back of her brain, something pushing her closer to the Doctor whether she realized it or not. If she was a little more naive, she would call it fate. If she was a little smarter, she was sure there was some scientific explanation. As it was, she aptly named it deja vu and pretended it didn’t bother her. 

When the Doctor stopped walking, Elise was pulled from her thoughts once more. Realizing she had missed out on an entire conversation, she was determined to pay more attention. Maybe once the reality of the situation settled in, that wouldn’t be so difficult.

“Good evening,” the Doctor called politely to a young man, a smile on his face, “Does the name Vincent Van Gogh ring a bell?” 

As Elise expected, the man scowled, his expression turning sour in the blink of an eye.

“Don’t mention that name to me,” he spat, then turned and walked back inside the building.

The Doctor, however, was unbothered. 

“Excuse me,” he began, turning his attention to the women cleaning the tables outside. Elise wanted to interrupt him, to remind him of Van Gogh’s reputation during his life, but she didn’t have the time. “Do you know Vincent Van Gogh?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Amy parroted, surprise and confusion lacing her words. While Elise felt a pang of sympathy for everyone involved, namely the absent Van Gogh, the situation was slightly humorous.

“He’s drunk, he’s mad, and he never pays his bills,” the waitress explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. In hindsight, it probably should’ve been.

It appeared that the Doctor was still undeterred. Elise had to give him credit for his optimism, or maybe his determination, but clueless wasn’t a good look for him.

“Pretty good painter though, eh?” 

Elise nudged the Doctor’s side with her elbow, shaking her head when he looked down at her in confusion. As he did so, the waitresses and patrons of the cafe all bursted out into laughter. 

This finally seemed to put a hole in the Doctor’s attitude, as he slumped down into one of the chairs, pulling Elise into his lap as he did so.

Elise fidgeted nervously, but didn’t get up. She wasn’t sure what to make of the Doctor’s seemingly constant need to be touching her, but his presence was the only familiar thing in this unfamiliar place, no matter how new in her life he was.

There were many different explanations running through Elise’s mind as to why the Doctor treated her the way he did, but none of them seemed plausible. She just assumed that they had known each other for a long time, and the Doctor was touchy. That seemed good enough.

Voices came from inside the cafe, an argument becoming clear as the voices became louder.

Elise perked her head up in curiosity. The Doctor, who was idly playing with her fingers, stilled his movements as he sat up further in the small chair. 

All of the breath left Elise’s lungs as a man who could only be Vincent Van Gogh emerged from the cafe, pleading with the man from before. 

Absentmindedly, Elise hit the Doctor’s leg with an excited hand, muttering incomprehensibly under her breath. From behind the arguing pair, Amy was pointing and mouthing words of excitement. 

She knew they were arguing about money, but the intricacies of the conversation left her as she stared on in awe. Right in front of her eyes was one of the most famous painters of all time. Was this her life now? She wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t staring her in the face. 

Under her, the Doctor shifted once more. Elise could practically feel the bad idea radiating from him as he moved around, clearing his throat quietly. 

“I’ll pay for it if you like,” he spoke loudly, catching the attention of the owner and Van Gogh. 

Elise closed her eyes, a grimace on her face. If she hadn’t had suspicions before, she was almost certain now that this man was an alien. Or some sort of billionaire. They were really one and the same, she thought offhandedly. 

“Excuse me?” Van Gogh asked, sounding and looking about as affronted as Elise herself thought she would be in the same situation. 

As long as she could remember, money had been an issue in her house. Her dad worked two jobs and, when she was still around, her mom was constantly picking up extra shifts at the hospital. As soon as Elise was old enough, she was put to work, and the majority of her money went to her father. Even then, she always felt awful when others offered to pay for her things.

It was a thing of pride, sure, but sometimes pride was all a person had left. And it was shameful when even that was taken away. Elise had seen the consequences far too often.

“I’ll pay for the drink. Or pay for the painting, and you can use the money to buy the drink,” the Doctor replied, sounding as cheerful as ever. 

Elise wondered, if he was an alien, what far off planet he was from where it was safe from capitalism. That idea seemed absurd to her. 

The Doctor’s usual charm was clearly not working on Van Gogh, because a look of anger flashed across his eyes before annoyance settled on his features. 

“Who exactly are you?” 

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably underneath Elise, absently fiddling with her fingers as he thought of an excuse. “We’re… new in town,” he settled on finally, not making eye contact with the painter in front of him.

The aforementioned man was clearly unimpressed with that response, scoffing quietly before responding. 

“Well, new in town, you don’t know three things. Firstly, I pay for my own drinks,” he was cut off as everyone surrounding them busted into fits of laughter, but he was unbothered, “second, no one buys my paintings or they would be laughed out of town. So if you want to stay here, I suggest keeping your cash to yourself. Third, your friends are cute, but you should keep your big nose out of other people’s business.” 

He turned back to the owner of the cafe easily, while the Doctor slumped back in his seat. Amy seemed ecstatic at the compliment, which only seemed to further upset the Doctor. Elise, on the other hand, was reeling at his words. She couldn’t believe Vincent Van Gogh had called her cute, but he certainly wasn’t her type.

She liked… well, it wasn’t important. 

Van Gogh and the owner continued to argue about the painting, and the trio slowly grew more annoyed with it. Finally, Amy snapped. 

“Oh, quit it, both of you! I would like a bottle of wine, which I will share with whomever I please,” she said, sticking looks to both of the men. 

After finally coming to an agreement, Elise found herself at a table with the Doctor, Amy, and Vincent Van Gogh (she still couldn’t believe she was saying that), watching the two gingers share a bottle of wine. 

She was sitting across from the Doctor, and every so often he would knock his foot against hers, so softly she almost missed it. She might have, too, if he hadn’t grinned at her every time he did it. 

“That accent of yours,” Van Gogh started, staring pointedly at Amy, “Are you from Holland like me?” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that.” 

All three of them answered at the same time. The Doctor sent Elise a look that said they would talk later, before clarifying for a confused Vincent. 

“She meant yes. Let’s start again. Hello, I’m the Doctor,” he greeted, holding out his hand for Vincent to shake. Not that that would be happening.

“I knew it!” Vincent exclaimed, all niceties gone. Elise would’ve laughed at the miscommunication if everything around Van Gogh wasn’t starting to become frustrating. 

The Doctor, however, didn’t seem to understand the problem. “Sorry?”

“My brother’s always sending doctors, but you won’t be able to help.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” he explained, laughing it off as he tried to change the subject. “That’s incredible, don’t you think? Elise, Amy?” he asked, pointing to a painting beside Vincent. 

The two girls nodded their heads eagerly, Elise mumbling something about the colors before Amy spoke up. “Absolutely. One of my favorites.” Elise could’ve strangled Amy.

“One of your favorite whats? You’ve never seen my work before.” Elise was slowly discovering that it didn’t take very much to work up Vincent Van Gogh. She credited part of it to the fact that they were strangers, and part of it to his mental illness. She remembered, in her final months, her mother had been more irritable than the rest of her life combined. 

As if somehow sensing the direction Elise’s thoughts had gone in, the Doctor reached across the table and placed his hand on top of hers. She smiled at him thankfully, but removed her hand from his, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her.

She could see in his eyes, in those incredibly beautiful and ancient eyes, that he knew more about her than he was letting on. And when he looked at her like that, like he could hear her every thought, she wanted to sink into the floor. 

Once they got back to the TARDIS, Elise planned to ask him just how much he knew about her and what exactly she was to him. Not knowing was killing her.

Amy cleared her throat nervously, her eyes shifting back and forth. “Ah. I meant, uh, one of my favorite paintings, generally, that I’ve ever seen.” Elise didn’t think that was very smooth, but it seemed to work.

“You must not have seen many paintings, then. I know it’s terrible. It’s the best I could do.” Suddenly, Vincent’s voice dropped lower, as if he were telling a secret. “Your hair is orange.”

“So’s yours,” Amy replied, leaning forward so that their faces were closer.

“Yes. It was more orange but now is, of course, less,” Vincent replied softly.

Elise wondered if this was their attempt at flirting. If it was, it wasn’t very good and it was honestly quite embarrassing to witness. The Doctor didn’t seem too pleased either, looking at the couple with a frown on his face.

When Elise caught him looking, he stuck his finger in his mouth and fake gagged, making her smile. However, when he looked away, the smile fell. She couldn’t help but wonder if the Doctor was upset because he had feelings for Amy.

It didn’t concern her at all, of course. But she really didn’t want to third wheel. 

The Doctor, clearly fed up with their flirting and ready for the attention to be on him, began speaking, effectively ending the weird moment they were having. 

“So, Vincent, painted any churches recently? Any church plans? Are churches, chapels, religiousy stuff like that, something you’d like to get into? Fairly soon?” 

Elise noted that subtlety was not a trait the Doctor seemed to possess. 

“Well, there is one church I’m thinking of painting when the weather is right.”

“That is good news,” the Doctor replied, grinning earnestly at the man before turning to Elise as if he was seeking her approval. 

The moment was broken by a heart-wrenching scream piercing the air, something that made Elise feel sick to her stomach. “She’s been murdered! Help me!”

“That, however, is not. Come on!” The Doctor shouted, jumping up and pulling Elise along before she could even properly stand.

The four of them raced through an alley, the Doctor never once letting go of Elise’s hand. She was quite grateful for it this time; she wasn’t an avid runner, and the Doctor’s long legs were hard to keep up with. 

When they pushed their way through the group of locals, they came upon the grizzly sight of a dead girl. Her body had been nearly torn to shreds. The sight made bile rise in Elise’s throat, but the Doctor tucked her into his chest and the sight was gone. 

She tried to focus on anything else to get the image of the girl’s ripped up body out of her mind. She leaned into the Doctor, gripping onto his shirt for security. Pressing her ear against his chest, she tried to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. However, she was met with a four-beat rhythm that left her more confused than calm.

It seemed she would have more questions to ask the Doctor than she thought. On the other hand, at least she was more certain about the alien theory now. 

“Please, let me look, I’m a doctor,” the Doctor urged, making sure to push Elise behind him so she couldn’t see the body.

The Doctor and Vincent both leaned down to examine the body. Elise made a point to keep her eyes averted, certain that the image was already going to be glued to her eyelids for nights to come. She didn’t need to see it again. 

Whispers of confusion, fear, and conspiracy flowed throughout the crowd as they fought to get a better look at the poor girl. The Doctor didn’t seem to notice, all of his attention focused on figuring out what happened.

A voice, louder than the others and thick with grief, silenced everyone at once. “Get away, you vultures! That’s my daughter!” The woman threw herself onto the ground, caressing her daughter with a gentle touch and whispering soft words to her. “Get away!” she shouted again, seeing that the Doctor was still standing over her daughter.

The Doctor and Vincent backed up, the former placing his hands up in a placating manner. Elise, feeling sick once more at the sound of the heartbroken mother, grabbed onto the Doctor’s coat for support.

The mother, spotting Vincent, threw a stone at him, yelling accusations about his part in her daughter’s death. Soon, the whole crowd was shouting and throwing stones at the whole group of them.

Vincent took off down the alley, Elise, the Doctor, and Amy following quickly after him. When they were far enough away to be safe, they all stopped to catch their breath, Elise struggling more than the others.

“Is there always this much running?” Elise asked, resting her hands on her knees and taking shallow breaths.

The Doctor merely grinned at her before turning to Vincent, ready to investigate once more. Despite her short time knowing him, she could only assume that grin was a ‘yes’.

“Has there been any murders like this here before?” 

Vincent nodded in affirmation, his face falling into a sorrowful expression. “Only a week ago. It’s a terrible time,” he explained. 

Elise felt her pity for the man tenfold; he was already leading such a difficult life, and now he couldn’t even be afraid in this time because he was being blamed for the deaths around him. She wanted, more than anything in that moment, for Vincent to know that he was cared for.

“As I thought. Come on, we’d better get you home.”

“Where are you staying tonight?” Vincent asked, hardly seeming bothered by the Doctor’s tendency to change subjects within the blink of an eye.

The Doctor grinned, clapping Vincent on the shoulder. “You’re so kind,” he replied, walking down the alley and pulling a giggling Elise behind him.

“Doctor?” Elise asked quietly, not wanting to catch the attention of Vincent or Amy, who were conversing quietly as Vincent led them to his home. 

Originally, she had planned to save her questions for when they returned to the TARDIS. But the silence was getting to her, and being lost in her own thoughts was making the reality of the situation settle in. Sure, the Doctor couldn’t explain everything to her right this second, but he could ease some of her worries. 

He hummed in acknowledgement, glancing down at her for a moment but averting his eyes when she looked up at him. 

“We get along, right? If I’m going to be sticking around, I don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to have to drag me around like a puppy all the time,” she confessed, gesturing to where he still had their fingers interlocked.

He seemed genuinely confused by her words, his eyebrows furrowed as he processed what she said. Finally, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he responded.

“You aren’t a burden; I just want to keep you safe. You’re…” he trailed off, licking his lips as he looked down at her thoughtfully, a gleam in his eyes that she didn’t understand, “very important to me.” 

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Or it would have to at least, because they had reached Vincent’s house, and she didn’t think the Doctor would keep answering questions anyway. He seemed to tense up when asked about their relations to each other. The last thing Elise wanted was to make him uncomfortable when she had just met him.

Not to mention, she was reeling from his revelation. It had been a long time since anyone had told her she was important. And this was a man she barely knew, yet he treated her like he truly meant it. She was almost too scared to ask.

There were many more things she wanted to know. She was sure that she would find out eventually, but she was impatient and scared, and that wasn’t a good combination. Still, she put her fist in her mouth and let it be. 

After all, she was staying the night with Vincent Van Gogh. Why should she concern herself with the small details?

As they entered Vincent’s house, he lit a small lamp, lighting up the room and allowing a multitude of his paintings to become visible. Elise walked around the room in awe, her eyes taking in some of his most famous works and other paintings that she’d never seen.

“Sorry for all the clutter,” Vincent apologized, moving around some of the paintings to make more room.

“Some clutter,” the Doctor responded casually.

“Damn right,” Elise muttered under her breath, eliciting a smile from the Doctor who was standing beside her, his eyes lingering on the awestruck expression on her face.

“I’ve come to accept that the only person who’s going to love my paintings is me.”

Again, Elise felt a pang in her chest for the man. He was so talented, his work so loved, and he was never going to know the legacy he would have. He was going to take his own life, never knowing how many people would wish to view more of his work. And there was nothing she could do.

She hated this, this helpless feeling. She felt it before, a long time ago, and she despised it then as she did now. She couldn’t stand around and watch when there were things to do. 

But this was history. Van Gogh’s death was history. She couldn’t very well go around changing that, could she? Even if she knew how, she was almost certain the Doctor wouldn’t let her. 

“Wow,” Amy breathed from behind them, taking in the paintings as she finally entered the house.

Elise nodded in agreement, her eyes drifting from the paintings to the Doctor, who was studying each canvas with interest. He hardly seemed affected by what was happening, and she wondered how often he did this type of thing.

“Coffee, anyone?” Vincent asked the trio politely.

“Got anything stronger?” Elise asked in a joking manner, not missing the disapproving glare from the Doctor. Even if she hadn’t depended on alcohol to get by for awhile, she thought coffee was the most disgusting thing in the world.

“Not for us,” the Doctor responded, putting his arm around her waist and leading her into the main room of the house.

She shook him off gently, still not understanding his need to have his hands on her, and wandered around the room carefully. She would’ve thought that keeping the company of Van Gogh would be enough to keep her thoughts from racing, but she was still questioning the Doctor’s every move. This man would not leave her mind.

The Doctor seemed put out by her coldness, but didn’t comment on it. She was thankful for that, because she thought she would explode with questions if he brought up anything between them.

Instead, he chose to ungracefully insert himself into Vincent and Amy’s conversation.

“Right, then, so this church. Where is it?”

“What is it with you and the church?” Vincent asked, exasperation lacing his words, as he fetched more wood for his fireplace. 

Of course, Elise knew why the church was so important, but to a stranger the Doctor probably seemed mildly obsessed. Like she previously thought, subtlety wasn’t a great asset of his.

“I’m just… casually interested in it,” the Doctor replied, a frown on his face.

Vincent scoffed. “Far from casual. Seems to me, you never talk about anything else.” He turned to Elise. “He’s a strange one.” Elise nodded in agreement.

“So let’s talk about you. What are you interested in?” the Doctor asked. Elise wondered if this was part of his plan to learn about the church, because it didn’t seem very smart to her.

“Art,” Vincent said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Looking at where he lived, it probably was. “It seems to me there’s so much more to the world than the average eye is allowed to see. I believe, if you look hard enough, there are more wonders in this universe than you ever could have dreamed of.”

Elise smiled softly at the man, her heart swelling at his words. She wished so badly, in that moment, that she could see the world through Vincent’s eyes for only a minute. To see the world with such beauty, she thought, would dull the ache in her chest.

All she wanted, more than anything, was to see the wonders in the universe. It was all she had ever dreamed of. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” the Doctor said softly. When Elise turned to look at him, his eyes were already on her, burning with such a fierceness that she felt like she would catch fire under his gaze. She had to turn away.

Later on, Elise was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a chair that the Doctor occupied, the two of them listening to Vincent ramble on about art and colors and whatever else was on his mind. 

While Elise was enjoying herself, particularly because of Vincent’s large gestures and growing volume, the Doctor didn’t seem to be sharing her enthusiasm. Especially when Vincent grabbed the Doctor by his lapels and pulled him up.

“Maybe you’ve had enough coffee for now. How about some nice calming tea? We’ll get you a nice cup of chamomile or something. Elise, get Amy, she makes it better than you. Where’s Amy?”

Elise was about to reply, tell the Doctor that she didn’t know, and that her tea was amazing, thank you very much, but a chilling scream broke through the air. Based on the Doctor’s response, Elise presumed it was Amy.

Her heart dropped, and she chased after the Doctor and Vincent as quickly as her legs would carry her. She hardly knew Amy, but she was kind and welcoming, and Elise wouldn’t forgive herself if something happened to her because she wasn’t paying attention.

The Doctor was shouting Amy’s name, but Elise ignored him, pushing past him to where she saw the ginger girl on her knees on the ground. She dropped to her knees beside her, rubbing her back soothingly as the two men approached.

She wasn’t sure what to say, or how to help; she’d never been in a situation like this before, but she could be there for Amy. That was better than nothing.

“What happened?” the Doctor asked carefully, still breathing heavily. Elise had seen him run before with no problem, so she assumed it was from fear.

“I was having a look at the paintings and something hit me from behind,” she explained.

Whatever it was, Elise thought it must’ve been extremely fast. She didn’t see anyone or anything, not even a sign that something had been there. The idea that it could disappear so quickly worried her.

“It’s alright. He’s gone now and we’re here,” the Doctor assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly, Vincent screamed out in terror. Elise’s head jerked in his direction instantly, but she didn’t see anything to cause worry. 

She watched from the doorway in fear as Vincent waved around a pitchfork, still yelling all the while, and the Doctor tried to calm him down. She knew that Vincent was unwell, but now she was more concerned than ever. Whatever he was seeing, none of them could, and she worried for his mental wellbeing.

In the past, she had many experiences with violent outbursts from someone who was hallucinating, but never as bad as this. Her dad had always dealt with that. Still, she had a small idea on what to do.

Just as she was about to step forward to assist, the Doctor was thrown through the air by an invisible force.

Something roared and a painting that was hanging outside was ripped down the middle. Elise could only assume that this creature, whatever it was, was the same thing that had hit Amy. And she didn’t think it wanted a friendly conversation.

“There’s nothing there!” Elise shouted, but Vincent didn’t listen.

“I don’t see it!” Amy supplied, keeping her hand tight around Elise’s arm for comfort and security. Neither of them had any idea what was going on, but they were clinging to each other like life boats.

The Doctor ignored both of them. “Let me help you,” he offered Vincent, grabbing a stick and running off to a different section of the yard.

“You can see it?” Vincent questioned, and Elise seconded the disbelief in his voice. If the Doctor could see it, why didn’t he know when it was coming?

“Yes. Ish. Well, not really,” he answered, just before he was knocked around yet again by the mysterious creature. He landed at Vincent’s feet with a thud.

“You couldn’t see it?” 

“No.” The Doctor smiled sheepishly, but jumped up and shook off the fall with no incident. He went straight back to jabbing the stick into thin air, having no idea whether or not he was close to anything.

Elise looked on in fond exasperation. This man was ridiculous, she thought, but at least he was trying to help. He may be hurting himself, and look like a complete fool, but he was trying to help. She admired that.

Vincent must have forced the creature to retreat, because he soon put the pitchfork down. The Doctor, as oblivious as ever, continued waving his stick around. The trio watched him silently.

Finally, after a minute or two of deliberation, Elise decided to speak up. “Doctor, he’s gone,” she told him, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice.

“Oh. Right.” He threw the stick to the ground, and the four of them headed inside, Elise pointedly not mentioning the blush on his cheeks. 

As soon as Elise entered the small house, she felt a burning sensation, similar to the one from before but nowhere near as painful. It still hurt, though; her whole body felt like she was running a high fever, or maybe standing way too close to an open flame. She didn’t know what to compare it to because it had never occurred naturally.

“Doctor?” she called out, trying to hide the fear in her voice. He had told her that when the burning began, it meant she was going to jump. But she had no idea what that meant or where she’d end up. She didn’t want to be alone.

The Doctor turned at the sound of her voice, alarm and confusion written on her face. Whatever he saw, made him look at her with a sad smile.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, and then Elise saw black once more.

She didn’t faint this time. She felt dizzy, but she landed on her feet and was able to open her eyes almost immediately.

From the faint humming and overall warmth she felt, she assumed she was back in the TARDIS. But it didn’t look anything like it did before. Before she could question why, an unfamiliar voice called her name.

A lanky man came into view, practically smothering her as he pulled her against his chest. He pulled back after a moment, and she opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by his lips being pressed against hers.

He kissed her passionately, but when he realized she wasn’t responding, he pulled back. He looked her up and down, confusion clear on his face, before realization seemed to strike him. He suddenly seemed a lot less excited than before.

But she wasn’t currently concerned with his feelings. She was fuming, confused, and tired of being thrown into the path of strangers who seemed to somehow know who she was.

“Who the hell are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you like the story so far. The next chapter is going to be longer, and hopefully more exciting. I'm still trying to get into the groove of making my OC realistic and writing the Doctor in character. Please leave feedback!! Also, do you have any suggestions for what type of relationship Elise should have with the different companions? I have a few ideas of my own but they're not solidified yet.


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